Entry tags:

fanfiction, storm hawks

[fanfic] Yesterday
AUTHOR: hermonthis
FANDOM: Storm Hawks
CHARACTERS: Aerrow, Piper (mention of Dark Ace)
Words: 574
RATING: PG
A/N: I was listening to the song “Yesterday” by the Beatles, and a strange sort of inspiration struck.

Yesterday

If it wasn’t for the small sliver of a window above her cell, she would have lost all sense of time. Hugging her knees on the freezing, stone floor with streaks of dirt and tears on her face, Piper listens to the fading sound of footsteps on the stairs. Without much sound or movement, she turns her head and scoots over to the edge of her iron cage, her fingers trembling from the cold and malnourishment. Whispering his name, she pulls herself to the bars and presses her face against the cold metal. The Storm Hawks were no more. As a team, they have died. But as individuals, they can still win. There is no question to it. They simply must.

“Aerrow,” she whispers into the darkness of the next cell, “are you okay?” He grunts in reply and slowly pulls himself across the floor to where she is. Gritting his teeth, his face is free of bruises. They attacked his legs instead.

“Did they give you enough water?” he asks, pulling himself up to the cage, his face a little lower than hers and his arms are quivering in tiredness. Even so, he can feel the radiance of her smile when she nods and says yes, they remembered to refill her water this morning. The guards kept neglecting her, and Aerrow gladly gave up five day’s worth of rations to keep her alive. Last night, he complained to the Dark Ace and accused them of wanting to kill Piper, and silently the Dark Ace transferred his gaze onto the girl before turning his back and walking back up the stairs. This morning, the guards presented their prisoners with an extra bowl of water.

Someone is coming down again, but the sound of footsteps coming down the hall and the growing shadow on the corridor doesn’t frighten them. One glance is all it takes to know who it is- and they don’t mind. Their focus, their determination to live, is focused between these two small cells in this dank prison in the basement of the Cyclonia. Struggling with her breath, Piper pushes her fingers through the iron bars and Aerrow squeezes the fingertips of her clammy hand.

She is covered in grime and hasn’t been given a shower in a week, and he is probably just as bad off with his mangled legs, but he still can see through the dim light, and he still thinks she is beautiful. His green eyes scan her face, memorizing the scratches on her skin, the bruises on her face, and she tilts her head down in modesty. They don’t know how they’ll get out of here, they’re not sure where their comrades are, but their hope is still alive.

“I love you,” he says without hesitation. Through his lips, a part of his soul escapes and breathes life into her. She closes her eyes and leans her head against the bars. He does the same. They stay that way when the footsteps stop. Their faces are closed to him, their foreheads are pressed together in meditation- they simply live. And when the Dark Ace reaches the bottom of the stairs for his routine inspection, he takes one glance at the other empty cells, the rusted shackles, and compares it to the two teenagers huddled beneath the window, leaning on each other for support, and wonders why he still feels like the outsider here.